


A Reminder

by smalltrolven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curtain Fic, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltrolven/pseuds/smalltrolven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though his memory isn't what it used to be, Sam's just full of reminders, and Dean appreciates it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reminder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [De_Nugis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/De_Nugis/gifts).



> Warnings: None, just for schmoop I suppose.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but these little ol' words.
> 
> Author's Note: Written for hi-de-nugis, because de_nugis is awesome and she deserved all the yummy fics and pics she received, what a fun surprise to get to participate in.

**_  
A Reminder by Radiohead_ **

_If I get old, I will not give in_  
But if I do, remind me of this.  
Remind me that, once I was free,  
Once I was cool, once I was me.  
And if I sat down, and crossed my arms,  
Hold me into, this song.  
Knock me out, smash out my brains,   
_If I take a chair, start to talk shit....._  
 _If I get old, remind me of this:_  
 _That night we kissed, and I really meant it._  
 _Whatever happens, if we're still speaking._  
 _Pick up the phone, play me this song._

“No, not happening, I can’t do that anymore.” Dean says stubbornly, leaning up against the front fender of the Impala.

“Would you cut it out Dean? Of course you can.” Sam answers, slamming the trunk lid down and walking towards him with the green cooler.  He puts it down near Dean and turns back to get something out of the back seat.

“There’s no point Sammy.” Dean says, trying not to sound defeated, so long past giving up he doesn’t even remember actually making that decision.

Without another word or even asking if it’s okay, Sam lifts him up onto the hood of the Impala quickly pushing him up so he can lay his head back on the windshield. He helps arrange Dean’s leg with the familiar brown corduroy pillow under the knee just like always.

Dean grunts a little, but manages to hide most of his pain. Sam knows it didn’t feel good getting up there, but that it’ll be worth it for Dean to sit on their car like they always have.

Reaching into the battered green cooler, Sam draws out two long necks, not the dark micro-brews he usually buys, but Dean’s old stand-by favorite light lager, El Sol.  He pops the caps and wings them off into the darkened field, shining circles bouncing over the dry stalk remnants.  He hops up next to Dean and hands him one of the beers.

Dean smiles, a little begrudgingly, and clinks his bottle into Sam’s, “Yiamas.”

“That’s a new one.” Sam laughs in surprise.

“Yeah, Greek.” Dean answers, absurdly proud that his quest to learn how to say cheers in as many ways as possible still gets a reaction from his brother.

“I never should have bought you that laptop for your birthday.” Sam says, scooting in closer to Dean so that their sides are pressed together.

“Just trying to expand your vocabulary Sammy.”

“My vocabulary is just fine thanks.”

“We out here for any particular reason?” Dean asks, truly curious why Sam had insisted they take a night drive out here way past the outskirts of their town on such a cold January night.  It’s not for his birthday because that was yesterday.

“Naw, just thought we needed it.”

Sam arranges the faded plaid wool blanket over their laps, to try and keep them from freezing too quickly; he wants to be able to stay out here for a while.  They drink their beers in the standard companionable silence they’ve perfected over the years. 

“Nothin’ like the stars in January.” Sam observes, head tilted back and resting against the top of Dean’s in that comfortable position they always seem to find themselves in when they’re sitting on their car.

“Good ol’ Sirius.  How long we been doin’ this?” Dean asks.

“Well, I think I was, what twelve when Dad gave you the car for your sixteenth birthday? So, thirty-five years now.”

“Damn that’s a long time ago.  Remember the first thing I did the next night after dad left was take you out to get bottles of root beer and we drank them sittin’ on the hood just like this?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Sam answers, smiling with a half grin he tries to hide.

Of course Dean sees it; he’s always looking for any flash of those dimples.  One of those life-long habits that he’ll never unlearn, never wants to unlearn. “That why we’re out here right now? You remembering stuff again?”

“Never forgot that one Dean.” Sam answers with a serious tone because out of all the memory issues he's struggled with, those early ones with Dean have never wavered.

“Huh, well thanks.” Dean says, surprised at what thinking about that first drive in his Impala with Sam still brings up, all those feelings of freedom, of anything being possible, having a cool car and his little brother looking up at him with hero-worship sparkling in his eyes.

“Thanks for what?”

“For reminding me how cool I used to be.” Dean says, wishing he could bring himself to thank Sam for helping him get up on the damn car, much less driving them out here.  But Sam knows. Of course he knows.

“I remember what happened sittin’ right here like this, ten years after that too.” Sam says into the top of Dean’s head.

“Me too, never forgettin’ that night.”

“You really meant it when you kissed me then didn’t you?” Sam asks, sitting back a little so he can see Dean’s face when he answers.

Dean turns to look up at Sam and says with an earnest, sincere tone, “I always do.”

Seeing Dean’s face, Sam smiles, “No, I know that, I mean, it was as big a deal for you as it was for me.”

Dean leans back and looks back up at the stars, “Maybe, never thought about it like that.”

“Really? In twenty-five years?” Sam asks, surprised that Dean’s never thought about what that first kiss meant to both of them.

Turning to look at Sam because he thinks he’s figured out why they’re out here in the cold, “Hold on a second. Is this some kind of anniversary thing?”

“Maybe.” Sam says trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

“And what, you’re mad that I didn’t remember the date of the first time we kissed?”

“Not mad, really not at all.  I’m glad though. Still getting to have you out here like this is more than I’d hoped for back then.” Sam says, trying to reassure Dean that’s all this is about.

“I remember I hoped for this.”  Dean says as he recalls that night all those years ago, how it’d seemed like the most natural and scariest thing in the world to lean over and finally kiss Sam.  Reminisces how it had felt like it was the first kiss of the rest of their lives together.  He also recalls the intense fear that he’d had, that it would be the final thing that would make Sam leave for good.

“You did? You hoped for the future?” Sam asks, pleasure mixed in with surprise.

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you were going to stick around or take off again, go back to school or whatever.  But yeah, I hoped we’d still you know.  Be together.”

Sam searches around under the blanket and grabs Dean’s hand, squeezing it gently in his, “Dean that makes it even better knowing that.”

“Hadn’t thought about that in a long time.  You’re full of reminders tonight.” Dean presses himself into Sam’s side.

Sam nuzzles into Dean’s hair right behind his ear and asks softly, “Remember what we did after you kissed me?”

“Yeah, never forgot that either Sammy.” Dean shivers as Sam licks around the sensitive skin behind his ear, his body squirming a little in automatic response.

“You wanna?” Sam asks with a breathless laugh.

Dean’s hands move quickly under the blanket in answer, because if you can’t enjoy a hand job under the stars with the man you’ve been with your whole life, then there’s something really wrong with you.  And there’s nothing wrong with Dean, except his screwed to hell knee, he’s still got Sam, alive, with a soul even, with his hands all over Dean’s body just like it’s always supposed to be.

**~FIN~**

 


End file.
